“Come on out, you lechers! Out, out, out!”
Response was immediate. Protests and abuse were thrown in equal measure and the contents of a chamber pot missed the intruder by a matter of inches. As Ralph hacked at the last door with his sword, it swung open to reveal an ancient priest who was pulling on his cassock over a naked and scrawny body. In the blindness of his panic, he ran straight into the flank of Ralph’s horse and bounced off it before
looking up with contrition and crossing himself three times. “There was sickness in the house!” he gabbled.
“Then you’ll have caught a dose of it!” said Ralph.
He and his men roared with amusement as the old priest scurried off in the hopes of outrunning eternal damnation. Faces had now emerged from other houses and three of them belonged to the remaining members of the armed escort. As they pulled on their helmets and buckled their sword-belts, Ralph upbraided his men with mock annoyance. They soon mounted their horses and took their places behind him. All ten of them now cantered out of the alley and woke up anyone who had so far managed to sleep through the barrage of noise. Gervase rode beside his colleague.
“How did you know where to find them?” he asked.
“They are soldiers,” said Ralph easily. “They take their pleasures where they can find them.”
“But there must be dozens of such places here.” “These were the ones I recommended.”
Gervase was shocked. “You sent them here?”
“This is London. I could not stop them. If they seek enjoyment in the stews, they might as well get the best.” He laughed as his friend coloured again. “The King is my lord and master in all things, Gervase, and I learn from him. He has raised castles to secure the kingdom and monasteries to sing the praises of the Almighty, but he has not neglected the baser needs of mankind. William the Conqueror owns three brothels in Rouen alone. I’ll show you around them one day.”
“No, thank you!”
“It will broaden your education, Gervase.” “I’ll take your word for it.”
Ralph enjoyed teasing him. Gervase was no stranger to lustful urges
but he would never satisfy them in the houses of resort, which existed in all the major cities and towns. Alys was waiting for him back in Winchester and the thought of her was enough to keep him pure in body if not in mind. Ralph had many sterling qualities but there was a sensual side to him, which could tip too easily into coarseness. Gervase was grateful when the bulk of St. Paul’s Cathedral loomed in front of them to distract his friend. Two figures stepped out of a shadowed doorway.
“You are late,” scolded Canon Hubert.
“A few of my men were delayed,” said Ralph. “Keep a firmer grip on them.”
“Someone else was doing that.”
Ribald laughter came from the knights. Canon Hubert shot them a look of disgust, then let Brother Simon help him to mount the spindly donkey he always rode. Hubert and Simon completed the party. While the others had spent the night at Castle Baynard-or in the arms of
the city whores-they had sought shelter with the regular canons at St. Paul’s. Despite an outward show of piety, Edward the Confessor had not turned London into the centre of Christianity he had envis-aged. Apart from St. Paul’s, the only religious house in the city was St. Martin’s-le-Grand and even that had worldly associations. There was a decidedly secular tenor to London and it had not pleased Canon Hubert and Brother Simon.
“Let us ride out of this sinful city,” said Hubert.
Ralph shook his head. “If you had a horse instead of that ass, we could quit the place a lot faster.”
“A donkey was good enough for Jesus Christ.”
“I did not realise you intended to travel exactly as Our Lord travelled,” said Ralph. “We will wait for you here while you walk on water across the Thames.”
Hubert snorted. “This is no time for blasphemy!” “When is?”
The soldiers laughed irreverently and the prelate swung the head
of his donkey around so that he could face them all. Canon Hubert was a short, fat, fussy, middle-aged man who had acquired extra layers of pomposity with each year that passed. Brother Simon, by contrast, was a walking skeleton in a black cowl, a nervous, reticent, and inoffensive soul who echoed all that Hubert said and who challenged nothing. The prelate rid himself of a burst of self-importance. “Please bear in mind, sirs,” he said pointedly, “that I was chosen for this assignment by the King himself, plucked from my sacred work in Winchester to perform this temporal office. I deserve and demand total respect. In short, sirs, I lead where the rest of you but
follow.”
“One moment,” said Ralph, bridling. “You take too much upon yourself, Canon Hubert.”
“Someone has to show a sense of responsibility.”
“I am appointed to lead this commission.”
“You but take the chair,” said Hubert with flabby condescension. “It is I who lend spiritual weight and substance to our dealings.” His voice rose to quell the general snigger from the escort. “I insist on obedience.”
“Then you must earn it,” said Ralph, determined to win the tussle
for power. “My men answer to me, Hubert.” “And you answer to the Church.”
Brother Simon actually spoke for once without being prompted. “Canon Hubert represents the Church.”
“There is a faint resemblance, I grant you,” said Ralph. “Cease this mockery!” hissed Hubert.
“Then do not try my patience. You may stand for the Church, but I
have the State at my elbow and that puts me in complete control. If
you question my authority again, we will ride on without you and discharge our business accordingly.”
But the prelate made no reply. It was neither the time nor the place
to pursue the argument. Seated on a small donkey amid a cluster of knights on their huge destriers, he was at a severe disadvantage. His attempted rebuke had failed so he would have to assert his authority in other ways at a later date. Ralph Delchard celebrated his small victory with a broad grin.
“We see eye to eye at last,” he said. “Let us have no more battles between Church and State, if you please, because I will always win. Look at the Tower of London over there,” he advised with a flick of his hand. “It is the emblem of power of the State. King William and his army subdued this land. Swords and arrows won the prize, not prayers and hymns. See that Tower and you see true Norman might. What part does the Church have in that?”
Gervase Bret did not wish to undermine Ralph’s argument or he would have pointed out that the Tower of London had, in fact, been designed by Gundulph, a monk from Canon Hubert’s old monastery in Bec. Church and State were more closely intertwined than Ralph Delchard cared to admit and the uneasy relationship between them was reflected in the constant jousting between him and Canon Hubert. Gervase did not want to throw fuel on the flames of another debate. Therefore, as the party set off, he held his tongue and contented himself with one last glimpse of the Tower. It was as grim and intimidating as ever, standing at a spot on the river that had been chosen for strategic importance, and maintaining close surveillance both of the city itself and the main approaches to it. Gervase noticed that it now contained a feature, which had not been there before, that caused a slight shudder to run through him.
Perched on the turrets with a proprietary air were a dozen or so large, black ravens, and many more were circling the building, which had become their natural home. It seemed to him an omen.
Essex was curiously isolated from London. The River Lea with its variegated courses and its undrained wetlands near the Thames served as a most effective barrier. Most of inland Essex was characterised by heavy clay and extensive woodland. As soon as they left Stratford, the travellers encountered the lower reaches of a royal forest, which stretched in a wide swathe almost as far north as Cambridge. Royal forests were subject to forest law whose harsh statutes were savagely enforced, as Ralph Delchard and Gervase Bret had learned in Wiltshire, when their work took them to the town of Bedwyn and the Savernake Forest Their new assignment was carrying them to a coastal region but they would have to negotiate a great deal of woodland on the way. It was a fine day and birds celebrated the sunshine with